Crown Impulses
by hesitate
Summary: [[ABANDONED]]1937. China and Japan grapple for power of Taiwan and Korea, while others grapple for a hold on life. Who will win? Contains but does not center around Mimato, Takari.
1. Default Chapter

**Crown Impulses : Life, Rerouted** by [wallflower][1]

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This is just something I felt like writing. This IS a mimato, but it's more a drama than romance. This is just the prologue so far. This story is for mi-chan :) 

Background on this story. This starts in the beginning of the Sino-Japan War, the pre-happenings of WWII, I believe. Matt's 19, and has just enlisted in the Japanese Army, in the fight against China for posession of Korea and Japan. These are LETTERS, not emails or anything, hehe. 

Flames, comments, cheese, can be directed to sunshine ba ba, 71018292, stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo! Messanger) or joy_fishy@hotmail.com(MSN and email). Yup, I changed my email! I'll still be checking my jump4@joymail account, but it's been losing a TON of emails, so I totally recommend ya use the hotmail one :) And remember: reviews and constructive critisism go hand in hand! 

The song of this fic is "Three Small Words" by Josie and the Pussycats. "Rockin'!" (god, I'm such a dork ^^;) 

Hotaru, if you don't review, bubba will have to scrape you off the floor. (Which Bubba?)   
THE BIGGEST ONE THERE IS! (thanks ashley..hehe...) 

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**9/30/37**  
Mimi-chan:

I can't believe it's been 3 weeks since I was in Odaiba. I miss the cherry blossoms in the park, I miss the ponds, I miss TK, Tai, everybody! And of course, I miss you. I miss your hair, I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss your hands, but especially I miss your smile, the one that would always make me grin, even if I didn't want to. I would do anything to get back to you, but I suppose getting shot by deserting isn't going to help, is it? Just remember I'm thinking about you every moment of every hour of every day. 

Everything that happened after the train pulled out of Odaiba station happened in a blur. One second, I was waving out the window to all of you, and the next, the train was screeching into a halt in Tokyo. A river of human bodies, all seeming to know exactly where they were going, pushed me out of the train. I was like one of those leaves that falls onto a stream, being carried on. I was checked for disease, how well I could shoot, how well I could understand pressure, and a lot of other things I don't remember. It wasn't until night, where I was crammed into a bunk bed when I noticed how alone I really was. 

It turns out that the authorities decided I would be a good general. General Yamato Ishida, how does that sound? Personally, I prefer just "Yamato Ishida". I don't have a good feeling about this war. Hell, I don't even know what we're fighting for. China will always be China, Korea will always be Korea, and Taiwan will always be Taiwan. They all take care of themselves, so does it really matter? 

  
Love, Yamato Ishida 

**10/15/37**  
Dear Mimi,

I'm sure the sky will always be blue, even if I'm not there with you. Actually, it might not! I'm just kidding, Mimi-chan. Or am I? It's hard to write down what I'm thinking, my head is moving faster than my thoughts! I'm glad TK, Kari, and Sora are stopping by to visit you, because I can't. Tell them all I said hi, and tell TK if he doesn't do "it" soon, I'll tell! Don't worry about what it means, just tell him that, he'll get it J 

I finally met some other guys here. There's this one guy, especially, his name is Ryan. He came from Kyoto. He has a girlfriend back home, and he writes her letters a lot, also. I showed him a picture of you, and he said you were cute. He's a pretty cool guy, except for the fact that he turns a lot in his sleep. He has the bunk underneath me, so I can feel the frame of the bed shaking at night! I like having the top bunk though, because I can look out the little window. It's hard to believe, that the same moon over this cold, white, plastic city, is the same hovering over Odaiba. That the murky blue sky here is the same that hovers over you. 

This will be the last letter you'll get for about 2 months, because we will be constantly moving, and I can't send anything because it may reveal our whereabouts. I can't believe the war is really going to happen. It's like something out of a history book, only today. 

  
Love, Matt 

**12/17/37**  
Ashiteru Mimi,

I can't believe it's been two months. It's felt like two years. Where I am now is not the world we lived in. It's not the same world where we fed ducks, where we caught falling raindrops in our mouths, where we flew kites. This is a world full of hate and anger. 

We were fighting the resisting Koreans, and it hadn't stuck me that war isn't a game. It's killing another, real, living person. Every time I load a bullet, yell a command, I'm condemning men to die. Men who were husbands, lovers, sons, brothers. People just like me and you, Mimi. I'm killing TK's, Tai's, Joe's, and their families and friends are mourning. 

I think it would be easier if I knew what this was all about. I there anything that oculd justify the killing of another human being? Is there any reason that could possibly be enough to end somebody else's life? 

I'm only 19, but I feel 60. I've seen a Japanese soldier shoot a Taiwanese woman, I've seen Chinese wound a Korean medic. Who asked for the war? The people who get shoved around from China's possession to Japan's? Us, the citizens? No, fat officials, sitting in the laps of luxury in the palaces of Tokyo and Beijing, that's who, while the foundation of our country is lying in the trenches, full of deceit, the white snow stained with blood. 

Yesterday, one of my privates was killed. A shell exploded near us, and I was knocked out. When I came to, I saw the boy just lying there. He wasn't messy or anything, he just looked a little shocked. He couldn't have been more than 15. Who knows what he might have been? A writer, a lawyer, a businessman? We'll never know. He lies in the battlefield without mark or grave to his name. Will anybody remember him? 

Sometimes I don't know why we bother. It's like all the good in the world has decided to leave this place. Or maybe this is the world, and we've just been living in Utopia, not conscious of what was going on around us? 

I don't know, Mimi-chan. All I want right now is to return home, back to you, back to Odaiba. Back to smiles, camping, even college. Out of this place. 

  
Love, Matt 

**1/4/38**   
Dear Mimi,

Whatever you do, please, please, don't let TK enlist. He's only 16! I know that he will, because that's the kind of person he is. I'm proud of him, but I don't want him here. I don't want him to grow up before he has to. I'm sure when you tell him this, he'll staunchly reply "I AM grown up, Matt!" But he's not. 

Right now, it's late at night, and its quiet in camp. Stillness is almost as bad as the noise, because the silence is the same language the dead speak. At least with noise, you know people are there, alive, even if they're trying to kill you and vice-versa. 

I haven't written for so long, because we're finally back in Japan. We were traveling through a mountain pass, when we saw smoke rising in the distance. Worried that somebody, we quickened our pace. But we were too late. By the time we arrived, all there was to see was the burned remains of a village, and a Chinese flag planted in the remnants of the town square. They didn't take any prisoners. What kind of people would just kill a whole village, women and children included? Now I understand the war. This is what evil truly looks like. And we're going to destroy it. 

  
Love, Matt 

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Back in Japan, Mimi slowly folded the letter. It was already March, although Matt's letter had dated from January. She slowly walked toward the window of her apartment, letting the light frame her while she looked at the cherry blossoms outside. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass. TK had left a month ago, and nobody, not even Kari had heard from him since. But a letter or a telegram, of death or capture also hadn't been received, so Kari waited everyday for the postman to come by, slumping a little each time the postman left her with empty hands. 

"I'm not going to tell Matt." Mimi thought. "He has enough trouble as is." 

Looking back at the flawless sky, she sighed. Thinking about all the children that had died in that village made her feel unworthy of even living. They were so innocent, so pure, and they died so soon. 

Suddenly, a military jet sped overhead, slashing the sky with a line of discoloration. 

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Hehe..so it wasn't the best...but, it's a prologue. And I'm having fun writing it! Please review! I'd demand it but it's nicer to say "please", isn't it? *hint hint* Seriously, I read every single review, check out all their stories, and if you want me to email you, I will! I'm a net junkie and I'm always on ^^ 

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com



	2. Tell Me Why

**Crown Impulses : Tell Me Why** by [wallflower][1]

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A/N: (This is a huge one!) I'd like to add in a bit of my life story here, lol. I'm Chinese-American, my grandparents were alive during the time period this supposedly took place; that's where I got some of the information for this story. My mother's father had to leave China because of a paper he wrote critisizing the communists, and the other grandpa had to leave because he had Communist friends, though he wasn't one. Now my grandma hates the Japanese people with a vengeance, anything Japanese. But I don't know, when they describe it, it seems like both sides are exactly the same, just...well...on different sides. I mean as people. Do I make sense? Oh well...anyway. Watch out for some biased viewpoints! ^^; 

If you guys haven't read "The Giving Tree" by Shel Silverstein, you MUST! I had it read to me by one of the worst read-a-louders of all time and used up 3 tissues. Right Hotaru, Leslie? (Hotaru, review or...you know!) 

Contactable: joy_fishy@hotmail.com (email and MSN), sunshine ba ba (aim), 71018292 (ICQ), and stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo!Messanger) I love to chat with people, and I'm always on! lol. 

The song of this fic...is...*drumroll please* "Broken Promises" by Tonya Mitchell. 

Like I said before, this fic is for mi-chan, who asked for a fic. (I didn't know it was going to blow up so much, lol!) And I will never succumb to sorato! Never, even if they do get married in ep 50 (maybe just a rumor, don't kill the messanger...) 

Though tabloids do occasionally get the truth, I don't own digimon. 

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Matt pulled his jacket closer to him as the wind and rain pounded mercilessly against his back. He was tired, his men were tired, but he had to get to Chunya to stop the Chinese. A private fell over onto the ground with a thud, and they left him behind, moaning for them not to abandon him. Like the politicians who had started this mess, they moved on, ignoring his pleas because they couldn't grant them. 

It was almost midnight when Matt finally stopped for camp. The men wearily fell to the ground, too tired to even erect a tent or build a fire; only able to breathe and sleep. 

_So, this is what Japan is depending on. _

He looked at the bedraggled, sprawling men, lying like a scattered box of matches. He knew he should go to sleep, at least rest. But ignoring his aching joints and his better judgement, he stumbled around, making sure that every man was alive, breathing. Even the private who had fallen over before had caught up, and now slept fitfully with a contented expression on his dirt-streaked face. 

How could anybody be anywhere near happy in this place? 

Matt shook his head, and slowly walked back to the small tent he had pitched. Crawling inside, it was a long time he lay there, watching the rain splatter water on the canvas like a reckless child with paints. Like TK had done when he was little. 

TK…where was TK? The last letter Mimi had sent had no information about him, no updates on his doings, like most did. Perhaps she just forgot. TK wasn't 18 yet, he wouldn't be allowed to enlist like he threatened. 

Satisfied, Matt turned onto his side and fell asleep. 

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(2 months earlier) 

The tall blonde wove his way through the crowd of boys. They all seemed the same, wearing the same colored uniforms, the same hats, the same look of adventure in their eyes. TK wondered if that was what he looked like. Matt had seemed so different; he was going off as his duty, as something he owed himself and his country, not as a game of cops and robbers. Absent mindedly, he stepped into a line. 

He felt bad about leaving Kari. Well, feeling like crap was more exact, but this was something he had to do. United we stand, divided we fall. Maybe he might not make a huge difference, but enough of him would. 

He was now at the front of the line. The man behind the desk ticked off questions on his fingers. 

"Name?" 

"Takeru Ishida." 

"Hometown?" 

"Odaiba." 

"Hair color…blonde…eye color…blue…" the man mumbled to himself. 

"Height?" 

"6'1" 

"Position?" 

"Private. Footsoldier." 

"Age?" 

"I'm over 18." TK stoically replied. He rubbed his heel on the sole of his shoe, to make sure the piece of paper with the number 18 on it was there, and then took his pledge of allegiance to serve Japan, no matter what the cost. 

At last, he was put on a train. He immediately fell asleep, tired from the stress of the day. 

Somebody was shaking his shoulder. "Stop it Kari…" he mumbled, squinting. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Since when did his pillow feel like a block of wood? And when did his room get new windows? 

Oh. The events of the last day washed over him in a wave of remembrance. The boy who had woken him up was already gone, and TK stumbled off the train, not yet quite awake. 

A commanding man with a double chin walked by. "Private! Report to your captain!" 

TK fumbled with the slip of paper he had shoved into his pocket. The ink was all smudged. He deciphered a "Fujiyama" from the mess, and walked off in search of his troop here at the military training camp. 

At the end of the day, TK flopped down onto his bed without changing. Every bone in his body was broken, every muscle was strained. Not literally, but still. High School basketball sure hadn't prepared him for the grueling 12 hour workout he had just received. And tomorrow, he would get to do it again. 

- 

"Okay privates. You've done well. You will be gone from here tomorrow, but may your spirits live on!" Capt. Fujiyama called at the retreating backs of his troopers. 

It was finally a month, a month! Never had 30 days felt so long ago before. After 720 hours, 43200 minutes, 259000 seconds of punishing training, TK was free. He ran a finger through his blond hair, which had become straw-like from the harsh treatment it had received. He practically leaped on the train, and as the whistle blew and the engine started up, he waved goodbye out the window. Now he was actually going to do something. He was going to help Japan, help Matt, wherever he was. He was going to keep the world safe for the Kari's, Mimi's, and Sora's. 

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He was behind schedule. Matt urged his men to go faster, but realized that he was going to be late. Any faster and his men would all drop from exhaustion. Reluctantly, he stopped his troops. The rest of the Japanese army was just going to have to fight the battle without Platoon #687. He raked his dirty hand through his just as sooty hair, which could have made him pass for a brunette, and gave the order to set camp, while a messenger on a horse was sent ahead with a message. 

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"Sorry soldiers. Your General has been delayed. You will be transferred into Mali's command for now." 

With disgruntled but not disrespectfully loud murmurs, TK's platoon shifted over to their right. He felt like a cow. "Go right." "Go left." "March." "Duck." "Shoot." True, this was going to be his first battle, but what was different between the Chinese and the straw dummies in training camp? They both didn't deserve to live. 

"Load." TK clapped a cartridge into his gun. 

"Aim." He took a view through the view piece. (A/N: Don't yell if I get some of the battle terms wrong, I've never shot a gun in my life, and my parents won't let me join the army, lol.) 

"Fire!" barked General Mali. 

Within fractions of seconds apart, the men fired sending dozens of whizzing projectiles at the opposite lines. TK's gun kicked back, hitting him in the chest, but he ignored the pain and reloaded. A volley of return shots was fired, and TK threw himself against a rock. The man next to him took a bullet in the stomach, crimson blood staining his uniform. 

"TK." He groaned. 

Takeru didn't want to, didn't want to see his fellow countryman dying, but who could refuse the last wish of a dying man? He crept over. 

"Tell…my…mother…I'm…gone. I..don't" he winced as he looked at his wound. "..want…her…to…find…out…from…the…officials. Tell…her…I…died…for…our…country." The man swallowed and gasped out the last words with trouble, then his eyes rolled back in his head, and his head flopped over to the side. 

TK wanted to throw up. Instead, he closed the man's eyes, and checked the inside of his lapel to find his name. Then, saying a soft prayer, he picked up his gun, and continued to shoot, the satisfaction of each body falling lessening and lessening in his heart. 

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Review? Please? For all you Romance people, I swear there will be romance...just not yet. And it's not really going to be fluffy (some parts are, some parts aren't) but then again, this isn't a really fluffy fic, is it? Hehe. Please review, or send me comments, ideas, flames, and crunch bars at joy_fishy@hotmail.com!

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com



	3. Cause (And Effect?)

**Crown Impulses : Cause (and Effect?)** by [wallflower][1]

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A/N: GAH! This chapter is really really short. It's a filler chapter And for that, I apologize, oh dearest of readers! Hehehe. Um um um...I don't really have anything to say this time, except that IT'S FINALLY SPRING! Gosh, I love the snow, but I cannot STAND the cold, so I'm happy it's finally sunny out here. 

OH MAN! I remember what I was going to say now! It appears that I have made a few, okay, SEVERAL errors in the making of this story. The Sino-Japanese War was not fought over posession of Taiwan and Korea, though that was an aftereffect of the war. The countries were always in posession of the Japanese. Thank you to Roy for pointing that out. Also, thanks to TK Takashi, they had automatics in WWII, so TK didn't have to load his cartridge. Maybe he stole it off a farmer or something o.O; And lastly, Leslie says that Matt couldn't be made a general on the spot like that. My "explanation" is that 1) it works for my advantage in the story, and 2) desperate times call for desperate measures, and a smart and cute guy like Matt can be whatever they want him to be! 

The song of the fic is...*dun dun dun* the Aretha Franklin Pepsi Song, because the Britney Spears one is stupid. She always finds some way to rip off her clothes, doesn't she? Hotaru said that, lol. But it's true! 

I'm always contactable, joy_fishy@hotmail.com (mail and MSN), sunshine ba ba (AIM), stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo!), and 71018292 (ICQ) 

Contrary to popular belief, I don't own digimon. 

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Mimi silently cursed herself as she jabbed herself with the needle for what seemed like the ten millionth time. She wished that she were anywhere else, but sitting in this room with older women, quilting. Her mother had made her go, telling her it wasn't good that she spent so much time inside, and she should help the war effort. Mimi had never been good with domestics, and after 3 hours of quilting, she wanted to throw herself out a window. But if sitting here poking a piece of metal through cloth was going to help Matt and Japan, she was going to poke a piece of metal through cloth. 

Kari sat next to her, quietly and diligently sewing, each of her minute stitches perfectly straight, perfectly even. "Just like her." Mimi thought. Mimi's own were uneven, the work of a rash and impulsive person. Sometimes she wished she were like Kari, perfect, sweet, polite, Kari. But this was one time she didn't. At least she knew where Matt was. TK was…well, nobody knew where TK was. Mimi silently thanked God for Matt and then commenced poking the needle through the cloth. 

____________________________________________

Kari mindlessly pulled her needle through the cloth, equally mindlessly staring at the bright patterned fabric. She didn't want to think about anything, because if she did she'd probably go crazy. Everything reminded her of TK. The trees they had sat under, the clouds they had guessed the shapes of, the green that was his and Matt's favorite colors. She realized the piece of material she was sewing was orange: like Patamon. She couldn't help it, she missed him so much and for all she knew, he was lying cold in a ditch somewhere while she sat here listening to the cozy chit-chat of women she didn't KNOW. Sure she knew their names, they knew hers, they saw each other regularly, and they were some of the kindest people in the world, but they just weren't the kind of people she was going to tell her hopes, her dreams, her fears and aspirations to. Not that she had many of anything now. She felt like a rock, devoid of emotion, but she KNEW she was a rock, which was an emotion…she didn't know how she felt. 

____________________________________________

TK picked up his woodchip, and threw it at the apple 100 feet away. It knocked the fruit off the post, falling to the ground with a thump where the nearest soldier snatched up the treasure. 

"WHOO!" TK whooped. He had been the first person to even hit the apple, much less knock it off. "I AM GREAT! I AM SUPER! I AMMMMM-" 

A first slammed into his jaw, and he fell to the ground with the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He could feel a presence hulking over him. "YOU'RE AN IDIOT, ISHIDA TAKERU! A DAMNED IDIOT!" TK whirled around to see who his attacker was. 

"Matt…" 

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME? WHAT KIND OF BAKA ARE YOU? DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT MOM, DAD, KARI FOR GOD'S SAKE?!" Matt's eyes, usually tired and worn were blazing with a fire born from the pain and suffering he had seen here. 

TK cowered before his brother, and suddenly he was 6 years old again, begging Matt to take him to the park so they could feed ducks. Swinging on the dilapidated swing set in their backyard. Painting the walls with pictures of their family. Matt felt tears build up behind his eyes, but he kept up his tirade. 

"THIS ISN'T JUST SOME GAME OF SOLDIERS! THESE ARE LIVING BREATHING PEOPLE! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!?" 

Finished, he turned and started to walk away. "I'm going to have to tell our parents, you know." 

TK watched his brother's retreating figure with a sullen face. He scornfully spit the blood out of his mouth. What did his brother know, anyway? "I KNOW it's not a game. I'm fighting for JAPAN." 

____________________________________________

Matt stormed into his tent and threw himself on the bed. He couldn't believe that TK had actually enlisted without telling him, he couldn't believe TK would actually WANT to come here, and he couldn't believe that Mimi or his parents hadn't written him about it. 

How could TK be so happy? The few moments Matt had seen TK before he arrived, he was laughing, LAUGHING, in the middle of this destructive war. He got up and started to pace. The obvious thing would be to tell their parents, send TK home, but that look that he had given him… 

"I'll give him a month." Thought Matt. "If he can prove to me he really cares about the cause, is really a man and not just some action-hungry teenager playing Russian roulette…we'll see." He continued his pacing, his heavy combat boots clomping on the floor. A sudden smashing noise snatched his attention. He lifted up one foot, to find his small mirror that he only kept because Mimi gave it to him. It was fractured, and his reflection stared back at him in dozens of disjointed pieces. 

"Seven year's bad luck…all I need today." deadpanned Matt, before cleaning up the glass and going to find TK. 

Yamato found him sitting by a small stream, skipping rocks. Each one would dance across the surface for a few steps, then fall through the water. Matt quietly picked up a smooth one, and spun it onto the water, where it skipped 8 times before falling. TK turned to see who it was, and then, realizing it was his brother, turned back the other way. 

"TK, I know you're mad at me, but just listen. If you give me THREE good reasons why you should stay here; REAL REASONS, I won't tell Mom and Dad. Prove to me you really want to be here, that you really believe in what we're fighting for." He didn't add that he couldn't give three reasons himself. 

TK didn't move, and Matt sighed. This was exactly what he would've done when he were younger, ignore the problem while it gnawed on him inside. Stare at the water so you don't cry, clench your fists til your knuckles turn white so you won't move, bite your bottom lip so you won't say anything. Yeah, he knew all the trickes; after all, he was the master. 

"Look at me." 

"Is that an order?" 

Until now, Matt had forgotten he was a general and thus had military authority over his brother. "Yes." 

Takeru slowly rotated so half his torso and his head was facing his brother. "Sir." 

Matt knelt on the grass by TK, and grasped his shoulders with his own calloused hands. "Think about it." He said before he walked away. 

TK didn't want to think about it. Besides, he had only one reason: Japan. That was all you need, right? 

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Review? Please? For some reason people aren't reviewing as much on ffn.net, and that makes me sad :( Again, I apologize this chapter was so short, but it was a natural break! I cannot help what happens when the spirit seizes me! *hummmmmmmm* hehe. Please review :) Or contact me, I'm always always on! 

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com



	4. It Happened to Me

**Crown Impulses : It Happened to Me** by [wallflower][1]

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A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry. I totally forgot I was going to Spain over spring break until like 2 days before. This chapter is really REALLY short (even shorter than the last!)...I wrote it on the airplane when I was really bored, and I type a lot faster than I write so basically it shrunk cause of the time I took to write things down. I'm now suffering from jetlag, I got up at 1 o clock! But anyway. Spain and Portugal were awesome; they're obsessed with Digimon over there! I met a digimon friend on the tour, a 10 year old boy, but hey, it saved me from withdrawal :) Thank you guys so much for the reviews, luv you all! I also drew a picture while I was on the tour bus...it's Mimi, but doesn't really look like her cause I didn't have a pic to draw from. [neoagent.net/stellar/ci.jpg][2] No idea why it's so blurry...I don't think anybody would want to, but DON'T STEAL. 

The song of this chapter is "Superman" by Greenday. 

Always contactable: joy_fishy@hotmail.com (email and MSN), sunshine ba ba (AIM), stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo!), 71018292 (ICQ). I think that's the order I use them most in, AIM and MSN are equal :) 

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Brooding silence hung over the whole landscape. A raven cawed before flying off, as if in warning of the upcoming destruction. The sun was just peeking its crown over the horizon as the Japanese soldiers hid themselves on a mountain. In the distance, sounds of the unwary advancing Chinese army could be heard. 

Matt stood farther back in the ranks, surveying his troops. After a few weeks rest, they were renewed in mind and spirit, as optimistic and trigger happy as the day they arrived. _How many will ever make it to the end?_

By now the Chinese were quite close. You could hear, if not understand, what they were saying. 

- (A/N: excuse my horrible pin yin! Note that none of the Japanese soldiers can understand this conversation.) 

"Wou kuh y dah nuh ga szh toe!" (I can hit that rock!) The man gestured up the mountain at a distant rock. 

"Bu kuh y uh!" (No way!) and other negatively conotated fragments were thrown at the first man, who bristled at the disbelief. 

- 

The first man was a burly Chinese private with an ego and pride bigger than the Grand Canyon. He carefully took aim at the mountain rock and let off a shot. It clipped the top of the boulder and his fellow soldiers slapped him on the back, when a round of shots rang through the valley, silencing a few of the men in an instant, the only sound they made anymore was the thump of limp bodies hitting the ground. 

- 

General Mali winced as something hit the top of the boulder he was crouching behind, raining little fragments down on him. He reached for the piece. 

In his hand lay a burning twisted piece of metal. It scorched his hand, but he didn't notice. It was a bullet, in the middle of a Japanese ambush in wait. A bullet, that wasn't supposed to be here, a bullet where the Chinese weren't supposed to know where they were… 

No time to think about that now. Dropping the smoldering projectile, Mali waved his arm wildly in the gesture to attack. His men and the other troops opened fire. 

Matt didn't know what had happened. One second, everything had been quiet, the next mass pandemonium. They had shot the Chinese and the latter group was rapidly returning fire, even with the Japanese height advantage. It was chaotic, pieces of rock flying, people shouting, guns going off… 

TK. Where was TK? Matt jumped up, spinning wildly about for private #6858230. He finally spotted him, down in a natural ditch firing. Matt breathed a sigh of relief, letting the cool mountain air fill his lungs. 

Suddenly a pain so intense it was as if somebody had stabbed him with a white-hot poker and held it there while it burned his flesh, twisting and pulling, trying to consume him at once ripped through his body. As his body went slack and Matt fell, he saw images flash before his eyes. TK and Matt at the park. Matt, Dad, moving away. Matt, Mimi. _Mimi…do you know my last thought is of you?_

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(A/N: I know, I know... how cliché was that? I'd love to end this chapter right here, just to torture you guys…but I won't ;) ) 

Matt slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the bright white light. Everything was white, white, white. Where was he? Heaven? Sure didn't look like hell, but not the picture image of eternity. Hey…the dead can't be picky… 

A surge of pain throbbed through his shoulder, causing him to inhale sharply. Okay, this wasn't heaven. He carefully turned his head to see his left shoulder. 

A once-white, now crimson bandage was wrapped around almost the whole upper half of his torso. Matt tentatively pushed the wound with his index finger, trying to see how far the bullet had gond and consequently how bad the wound. Nothing. Breathing deeply against the spasms of pain, Matt probed a little deeper. Still nothing. Somebody must've removed it. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, a casually dressed man walked into the room. He looked surprised to see Matt awake. 

"How are you feeling…" he consulted his clipboard. "General Ishida?" His Japanese was heavily accented, but Matt could hear a sarcastic edge in his voice. 

A headache washed over his brain, and Matt was aware that he had a fever. "Fine." he bit. He hated being the one on the bed, somebody else looking down at him. He was used to being the one standing. "What happened?" 

The young man began to laugh, making Matt's head even worse. It was like that annoying sound was filtering into his ear and instead of going wherever sounds go, straight into the core of his brain where it scraped and scratched the sides. 

"What's so funny?" he grunted. 

"Welcome, to the Chinese camp. You've been here 2 days, ever since we found you on the field after the victory of Hungkow Mountain. After your worthless friends left you to die. You almost did, but we found you and removed the bullet. Maybe your arm won't need to be amputated; you're so full of dirt some infection probably wouldn't affect you." The doctor put his face close to Matt's. "Enjoy your stay." 

It was during this speech Matt noticed the straps holding him to the hospital bed, the unfamiliar language coursing down the hall, the words on the radio that he couldn't understand. 

The doctor left, his shoes making an echoing click-click noise as he stepped down the hall. 

----- 

"One of the generals is missing." The murmur passed through the assembled soldiers. "They won't say who." 

Upon hearing the news, TK looked at the row of generals, brow furrowed, blue eyes flicking left and right, searching for the leader of Platoon #687. There were too many rows; TK who had memorized the back of his brothers head from the time he was born couldn't see the familiar shock of blonde hair anywhere. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he broke formation, darting up to double check. Searching each face, he just saw a blur, a doll face, a nothing. Not his brother. A general snatched his arm. 

"Private! Return to formation, now!" 

"Sir, but-" 

"What part of "NOW" don't you understand, private!" barked the officer. He was obivously on short tension and had the tolerance of a soap bubble. 

"Sir, sorry, sir." Spit TK, stalking back to his troop. But he had gotten a good glance at the line of generals, and while his head was saying "Yes, it is", his heart pushed over. "No, it's not." 

----- 

Sorry. SORRY. That was incredibly short. But please review or contact me :) Flames are okay... IF THEY'RE COHERENT. ^^ Thank you and have a nice daaay! 

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://neoagent.net/stellar/ci.jpg



	5. When I Grow Up...

**Crown Impulses : When I Grow Up...** by [wallflower][1]

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_The guilt is mine I was untrue   
The question is what am I to do   
all I know is I got to try   
To find sweet Lorelei   
Make amends for what's been done   
Cause I believe that she's the one_   
"When Mermaids Cry" Eagle Eyed Cherry 

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A/N: A CHAPTER! A CHAPTER! A REAL CHAPTER! Well, I think it is. It isn't all..disjointed and stuff. Like the other ones. Though it's nothing next to the 8 pages of Kate, Leslie, and the like, the concisely pithy Mimi is trying! "I think I can...I think I can..." The song of this chapter is the one I used the lyrics for, "When Mermaids Cry" by Eagle Eyed Cherry. 

As for Mary on 7th Heaven (4/23) WHAT A LKJSDLKF! She doesn't deserve Robbie... 

Contrary to popular belief, I don't own digimon. I'm always reachable, net junkie I am, and contact info is at the bottom ;) 

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It was dark outside; the moon was nearing the end of its cycle, forming only a sliver of a crescent that cast a vague light on the whole scene. The kind of light so dim you can't see your hand, yet you get the sense your hand is there, a slight streak in the smooth night air. 

TK slid out of the barracks, and slightly smiled as he could still hear his friends "gentle" snoring outside. He took a cool breath of fresh air, and considered. Since Matt wasn't in the camp, and the generals had blown him away every time he confronted them, there were only 2 places Matt could be. In the infirmary or well…TK didn't really want to think about the other place. But the infirmary was hands off, no go, during the day, and nobody would tell him anything. So…he was going to find out himself. 

He lowered himself so he was only about a foot off the ground, creeping along like a primordial monkey. Something hard hit the side of his head: the fence post on the side of the main path. TK swung himself around it, carefully sifting the dust with his fingers so he didn't stray off the path. This was slow progress, to say the least. 

What if Matt was going to…say it TK,…die? 

This was MATT, they were talking about. Matt, who had always taken care of him, Matt who had taken him to the park, Matt who had always been there. Matt who had saved his life when he fell into the river, Matt who had saved his life when he tried to commit suicide. 

Sometimes TK couldn't stand his brother, Mr. Perfect, but now he wanted to take every single mean thought or word back. Entirely, totally. He had known his words hurt his brother, but he never took them back. He had always had this burning resentment, this hatred. 

But it was doused now. Whatever embers there were left had been extinguished long ago. 

TK's head yet again banged into something hard, and he cursed under his breath. There was definitely going to be a bump there tomorrow. The two miles down the road hadn't felt so long til now, when he realized his burning scraped hands and his threadbare pants, grains of dirt pressing into his knees. He felt the post with his hand, and discovered he had hit a fork in the road. "Infirmary to the left." He muttered. Or was it to the right? Trial and error, better than never, he reasoned, and continued moving down the left trail. 

The war really wasn't what he had thought it was going to be. He was fighting for Japan, but for what? If Japan got Korea, what would change? It's not like the Koreans would suddenly start speaking Japanese and using yen. The Taiwanese wouldn't start making sushi and udon noodles their main diet. It wouldn't change shit, and wouldn't they fall eventually? Like all the great empires before, the Roman, the Byzantine, the Chinese for god's sakes. It was all this stupid cycle, rise and fall, rise and fall, fly and crash, swim and sink, live and die. Like a cicada, those crazy insects that would sing their heart and soul out for 18 days before falling off their trees and turning into brittle crunchy chunks, assimilated into the ground, that would have their 15 minutes of fame. 

A breeze blew into him, freezing the sweat on his face instantly, creating a salty mask. He shivered, and glancing at the vague dark, discovered that he was almost at the infirmary. A few more minutes, and he would reach the door and find out the truth, good or bad. 

Something hard and cold slammed into him, throwing him face down into the dust road. TK sputtered, and twisted to see what had happened. A metallic apparatus gleamed softly in the glow of the moon, a hulking shape attached to it. The man put the gun to TK's head. _God no…_

"Traitor." The guard whispered, before pulling the trigger. 

---- 

Kari had given up receiving a letter from TK. For now, no news meant that he wasn't dead or critically injured. But she still felt hurt. How could he not even bother to tell her he was okay? That he hated the army food, that he hadn't washed his clothes in two weeks, anything? WHAT KIND OF STUPID DIMWIT WAS HE? She started to cry. One that she loved, obviously. 

Tai knocked on her door. She could tell it was him because his footsteps were different from her parents; they had this bounce, this springiness that made the floorboards reverberate with every stride. Even though they were a bit muted today. He hadn't gone to fight because he had broken his arm a few months ago, and it still hadn't completely healed. Not enough to fire a gun, the army said. Not strong enough to throw a grenade. It made him mad, because like their mother said, "Tai's a fight waiting to happen,", and he ESPECIALLY, ESPECIALLY, hated being left behind. He missed Matt, but mostly he envied him. Envied him standing there with his two good arms, ordering troops around, popping the Chinese. But he tried to make the best of it. And even though he usually tried to be out of the house, doing what volunteer work he could, it made Kari better to know that he was safe. At least she still had somebody. 

He knocked again, and Kari grinned. She had been thinking about him and yet she had forgotten he was standing in front of the stupid door. 

"Come in." she smiled, almost genuinely, the first in quite a few months. 

Tai's usually jovial face was pulled into a perpetual grimace, his chocolate brown eyes, usually happy and glowing charged with negative energy. 

Kari chose to ignore it. Nothing could get her down. She was going to be happy, as happy as those advertising ladies on the radio for toothpaste. _IT'S IPEGA! WITH THE BRAND NEW FLAVOR! DANDY FOR YOUR TEETH! WHOO!_ "What's up?" 

"Kari…the Ishidas. They got a letter." 

She froze. A letter, a letter. TK or Matt, TK or Matt? _PLEASE be Matt…_

Mimi ran out of the house, streaking towards the Ishidas, her hair whipping into her face and becoming weighed down with her tears. _Please be TK, God, PLEASE BE TK! Or some type of commendation, an award, a medal, who gives a damn, just don't let Matt be dead…_

She ran into the house without knocking, dashing about the house looking for the Ishidas. They were in the living room, and Kari was already there. Mimi avoided the younger girls eyes. Either way, somebody was going to get hurt, and it pained her to ill-wish her friend, her sister, but… 

Mrs. Ishida was hysterical, and Mimi instinctively hugged her. It was no secret that the mother preferred Kari to her, the steady, placid, polite girl to the vivaciously buoyant one with the modern ideas. But now Kari felt too awkward, out of polite protocol to embrace the older lady, who was now clinging to Mimi and sobbing her eyes out. 

Her husband on the other hand was blinking back tears; he knew that if he started to openly cry it would only make his wife worse. In his trembling hands, he held the letter, a plain envelope addressed to Mr. And Mrs. Ishida, 280 Futagoza St, Apt 497. Odaiba, Japan 908218. The 3 pointed seal on the back shook any hope of the letter being good either of the girls had. 

Mr. Ishida jammed his finger under the flap and shakily drew his nail across the length of the envelope, the ripping of the paper was the only sound in the room. 

He cleared his throat. 

Mr. And Mrs. Ishida ("What? No dear?" thought Mimi, and then mentally slapped herself for even noticing) 

We are sorry to inform you (PLEASE DON'T BE TK…) 

That your son, Ishida Takeru has perished nobily in the service. Though his exact intentions may not be known, it is assumed that he was trying to visit the infirmary in pursuit of his MIA brother, Ishida Yamato. The guard on call mistakenly thought he was a deserter, and shot him on the spot. We are greatly saddened for the price you have had to pay for our country, and if there is anything we can do, please do not hesitate to ask. 

Mikomo Mali, 5/7/38 (555)555-5555 

Mrs. Ishida had continued sobbing hysterically throughout the whole letter, while Mimi was now crying freely. But Kari hadn't moved. She sat there, silent, immobile, dry-eyed. She suddenly stood up, startling them all, and walked over to the phone, slowly, methodically dialing. 

"Hello." 

Vague mumbling noises. 

"You would like to know how you could help me?" 

More general tones. 

"YOU CAN HELP ME BY SENDING MY GODDAMN BOYFRIEND BACK!" 

Kari slammed the receiver into the phone, and faced the stunned audience; like some inexpert actress who had just come down with a really bad case of stage fright. Only she wasn't acting, the house wasn't a stage, and her life wasn't a play. _This heroine is quitting._ She thought before storming out of the house without another word. 

Mimi was dying from happiness that it wasn't Matt…but MIA. What the hell is MIA? She could feel sorry about TK later. 

She felt bad about saying anything at the moment, but she had to know. 

"What's MIA?" she asked, glancing at the other two. 

"Missing in action." said Mr. Ishida wearily, patting his wife's back as her body was wracked with another bout of sobs. 

-------- 

A/N: Please don't kill me for killing TK...*cough*TK Takashi*cough* but anyway. I think this chapter was much better than the last two...please review! you guys have ALL been so awesome about it before! *glomps you all* And remember, I'm always contactable, whether my email, (joy_fishy@hotmail.com), MSN (same), AIM (sunshine ba ba), or ICQ (71018292). 

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com



	6. Break My Wings

**Crown Impulses : Break My Wings** by [wallflower][1]

I remember we could talk about anything   
I remember when we used to want to hangout   
I remember we could talk about anything   
I remember I remember I remember   
"So Much For the Afterglow" - Everclear 

A/N: Sorry..it's been like a month since I've posted a chapter, and I'm sorry to say this chapter is nothing out of the ordinary. I've been kind of busy. Sorry guys. Thanks to the ones who've sent me emails, luv ya all :) 

GRR...stupid Harrison. I don't even like him anymore. GO GEORGE! the song of the chapter is "Ride Wit Me" by Nelly, cause I fit those measurements in his song perfectly. lmao.. 

any emails and stuff can be directed at joy_fishy@hotmail.com (email/MSN), sunshine ba ba (AIM), stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo!), and 71018292 (ICQ) 

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Matt involuntarily grit his teeth as he strained to lift the block of cement. His muscles protested, starting a fire in his leg that he wouldn't be able to extinguish. But it didn't matter; he was used to it by now. The twisted muscles, the hands so calloused there were blisters on his blisters. He didn't wince, knowing that any sign of weakness would being on a round of taunts from the pig-headed, muscle-bound guards that stood watch over the prisoners. 

He had lost track of the days he had been here, but he was pretty sure it was about 2 weeks. 2 weeks, 2 years, when you're stuck in a hellhole is there really a difference? Eternity equals eternity. 

Not that he could blame the soldiers. They were just mindlessly following orders, striving to make a difference, to help their country. And if that meant torturing the enemy, so what? The Japanese did the same to him, not to mention there was the time they invaded and raped women then killed them and their children, even though had done nothing to them. (A/N: The Rape of Nanking was the slaughter of innocent civilians, babies and elders, and the rape of Chinese women, from teenagers to 85-year olds, that lasted for six weeks. More than three hundred thousand of Nanjing residents perished.) No, he couldn't blame them. 

But that didn't mean he had lost his will to live or anything. He had made a promise to Mimi to come back alive, and that he was going to do. Right now, he wasn't really needed to any work. They just wanted to see a Japanese general at their mercy. The real torture would come later, he figured. 

The memories of home were starting to fade. What did Mimi look like again? She had chestnut hair, brown eyes, and always, always, wore pink, but what else? He couldn't be sure that his memory was really what she looked like anymore. And what did a cherry blossom smell like now? Not the dirt, grime, sweat, that he inhaled now. A dainty, fragrant whiff…fragile, something out of a storybook life. Out of the life he had lived in. 

What would TK be doing know? He grunted as he shoved the block into place. Probably eating, his stomach reminded him. It was some sort of twisted fun, cutting the food in half while doubling the workload. As much fun as repeatedly running into a concrete wall. 

He half-heartedly smiled when he saw another person. Communication of any sort was forbidden, negotiations one-sided, objective: don't piss the Chinese off. But it was still comforting to see someone from his country here, a flower in the desert. (A/N: the ep where Mimi got her crest? Hm?) 

Matt's arm wrenched, and he gasped before he could help himself. He had pulled something in his arm. He set down the block he had been lugging around, and sat upon it. He grabbed his throbbing limb, willing it to stop. Of course it didn't. 

A hulking shadow stood over him. 

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" the guard sneered. 

Hair shorn, uniform ragged, enough meat to fill a teaspoon, Matt wasn't really the picture of perfect. He said nothing. 

"Answer me." 

Now he would have to answer. "I hurt my arm." 

The guard grinned, and before Matt could move, and wrenched his arm even further, and then swung it back to hit him. 

"That better?" 

Silence. 

The guard pushed his face closer. "I said, IS THAT BETTER." 

"Yes sir." Matt whispered. The soldier was close enough that Matt could count the individual dirt-clogged pores on his nose. Not that he was going to. He thought his arm was going to fall off, neatly amputated. Glancing at the ground he half-expected to see it twitching there. He tried to wiggle his fingers but was dismayed to find they weren't moving in sync with his brain. In fact, they weren't moving at all. 

A whistle sounded, bringing relief with it. At least now he could take a real rest and get at least some food to eat, roach and maggot infested as it may be. 

He sat down on the ground, waiting for the leftovers that would hopefully be deposited at his feet. Instead, somebody slapped him on the back. 

"Up." It was a different soldier, and Matt awkwardly stood up, avoiding use of his arm. 

"Come with me." The man spoke perfect Japanese, a rarity here. Matt peered at him more closely but he had already strode off. He had never seen this man around before, but he had this weird sense of déjà vu. 

The blonde was led away from the construction site, past the shed that doubled as the prisoners sleeping place. As the site disappeared from his vision, he felt a little lost. For two weeks, it had been his sense of security; a knowledge that they weren't going to do anything really bad him, at least not yet. Now..who knew? Maybe he would be killed. Maybe he would be tortured. Maybe..maybe…maybe he would live. "That's the spirit." He told himself. 

The pair was approaching another building in the compound now. Matt had never seen it before, but assumed it was some type of headquarters, at least the center of the complex. It was HUGE. 

"So, Matt, what happened since I've seen you?" the man spoke again for the first time, turning to face him. 

Yamato was startled; he didn't know this man. 

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt." 

Matt looked at the man's face. 

"Ryan?" 

No way. This could not be the same guy. Ryan, his friend from boot camp in the beginning. Ryan, the boy who was his only friend in the isolation of war. Ryan, a JAPANESE recruit. 

His bewilderment must've shown on his face, because Ryan smiled a little. 

"Man, how'd you let this happen to you?" he looked at the ground. "I would hate to be you." 

Matt still hadn't put together everything in his mind. His arm was forgotten. Ryan was obviously…a Chinese spy. 

"Ryan's not even your real name, is it?" 

Ryan looked a little astonished at the question but answered. "No, not anymore. It's Kevin." 

"Are you even Japanese?" 

A small fire started in Kevin's eyes. "I was." 

Before Matt could say anything he continued, his voice low and hard. 

"I was. I was born and raised Japanese, in Tokyo, the heart of the wretched country. Even when I was a young boy, I saw something wrong with us. Some artificiality, some false sense of security, pride, empty praise, it swirled all around me in the form of rich businessman, successful entrepreneurs, empty, empty, people. 

Then one day I took a trip to China. The lolling hills, the landscape, the earth-like, natural feel of it all was like nothing I had ever felt, seen, smelt, heard before. Imagine holding a plastic flower your hold life and suddenly you're thrown a rose. 

But I couldn't just ditch Japan. After all, I was Japanese, and the Chinese and the Japanese have been enemies for as long as time, even though we share a lot of written language, and even some speech. But the plastic artificialness was suffocating me. I thought that by registering with the Japanese army I would find the reasons to hate China; to protect Japan. 

If you can't tell, I didn't. To witness the Rape of Nanking was the single most vivid, horrible, memory in my life. The thousands of innocents, plundered, violated, by our so-called "patriots". Give me a break. 

That's when I joined the Chinese army. And since I had some knowledge of our troops plans, I became an invaluable source to these people. MY people." 

Now they were at the door to the intimidating fortress. Kevin said a few words in Chinese; the guard inside grunted and opened the door. Matt was pulled in by his hurt arm, and Ryan stayed outside. 

"Good luck…" was softly heard over the slamming of the door, and before the guard dragged Matt off. 

--------- 

A/N: DUM DUM DUM...lol... any emails and stuff can be directed at joy_fishy@hotmail.com (email/MSN), sunshine ba ba (AIM), stellar687@yahoo.com (Yahoo!), and 71018292 (ICQ) and PLEASE REVIEW SINCE YOU'RE DOWN HERE! *grovels at reader's feet* 

   [1]: mailto:joy_fishy@hotmail.com



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